The Fake Engagement
by MrsMCrieff
Summary: Following on from The Marriage Sham this story follows Sherlock and Molly thoughout Season 3. As before it will be a Sherlolly story.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**Great, you've made it over from The Marriage Sham. **

**And so the story continues. Again I've started with a T rating but it will change over to M eventually no doubt about it :).**

**Sherlock has been away dismantling Moriarty's network and this story picks up on his return at the beginning of Season 3.**

**Disclaimer: I owe it all to ACD, Moffat and Gatiss. Thank you.**

It had been eighteen months. Eighteen months since Molly had last seen Sherlock Holmes. Her last view of him was as he had left the bedroom of the cottage they had shared, moments after they had...what...made love, had sex. God knows what Sherlock classed it as. He had told her he hadn't regretted it but he'd been gone by morning and she hadn't seen him since.

Yes, she knew he'd rescued her after she'd been drugged by Moran's puppet girlfriend. She knew he'd made sure she got to the hospital to receive treatment but he hadn't been there when she woke up. Instead he'd left it to his brother to 'break up' with her.

The memory of that conversation with Mycroft left a bitter taste in Molly's mouth. He had been so cold, reminding her that she was nothing more than a convenient tool in their plan and a mere distraction for Sherlock before he got on with the real business of dismantling Moriarty's network.

For weeks after she had lived in hope that he would contact her, reach out to her somehow to let her know that he genuinely did care, that it hadn't just been a physical thing between them. But there had been nothing.

She knew he was still alive, out there, somewhere in the world and for that much she was grateful. She had begged Mycroft to let her know if anything 'happened' to Sherlock, and by that they both knew she meant if he had been killed.

Time had moved on, she had returned to her job at Bart's, happy to be back in the comfort of her own cold and clinical domain. She'd met up with John once or twice pleased to see him move on with the receptionist, Mary Morstan, from the surgery where he worked. She'd met her too, with John, and they were good together. Mary had really helped John come to terms with Sherlock's death and see the positives in life again. She wasn't too sure about his new moustache though. She hadn't said anything but it made him look older, more serious. Maybe that's how he felt now.

She'd even moved on herself. She'd been dating Tom for just over six months. They'd met through an old, mutual university friend and had hit it off from day one. If Molly was honest it wasn't exciting or passionate, he was just a good, honest, caring man and whilst she might not feel for him in quite the same way she had for Sherlock she loved him.

She smiled to herself remembering the moment two weeks ago when he'd proposed. It was all very traditional, he'd taken her out for a romantic meal and proposed over dessert. They'd gone back to her flat and made love and if it hadn't been quite as satisfying as one night in her memory from over a year ago...well, she had tried not to think about it.

She was thinking about Tom whilst she made her way to the locker room at then end of her shift. She was off to the cinema with him that evening and it felt good to have plans that didn't just entail her going back to her flat and curling up with Toby, her cat, and a book or DVD. She finally had a life outside of work.

She opened the door to her locker ready to hang up her lab coat and retrieve her belongings when she saw him...her ghost from the past.

His face reflected back at her in the small mirror attached to the inside of the locker door and for a split second she thought she was seeing things. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him, he looked thinner and paler than he had last time she had seen him and he had a couple of fading bruises as well as a cut lip and what looked like a recently busted nose.

But she didn't care, she didn't care about anything, he was here and he was safe. She felt the bubble of joy rise up in her throat as she turned to face him with a happy smile on her face.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock looked down into Molly's happy, smiling face and felt like a man who had been walking in a desert for a thousand days and had suddenly been offered water.

After John's quite violent reaction to his return the previous night Sherlock had decided to reveal his return to someone he knew would absolutely be happy to see him and Molly wasn't disappointing him.

He'd kept the memory of her tucked away in his mind palace for the last eighteen months. He'd been tempted so many times to go into her room there, to wallow in the calm and the love that she brought him but he hadn't dared. He knew, deep down, that if he'd gone there he wouldn't have wanted to return to the real world. The real world where he was 'dead', on the run, being captured and beaten. He couldn't afford to think about a time where he could be with Molly, kiss her, hold her, make love to her. And yes, he knew he was being sentimental but he had been through so much recently he wanted to indulge, wanted to get back to his old life where he had friends, where he had people's respect and where he was loved by Molly and he no longer cared what Mycroft thought of it all.

He moved towards her, drinking in the sight of her and before she even had chance to say anything more than his name he bent his head down and kissed her.

She smelt and tasted so familiar to him, he felt like he was finally home, back in London where he belonged. She opened her mouth to him, her hands clutching at his lapels. He wrapped his arms around her tiny frame and they fell back against the lockers, his body pressing up against hers. For the first time in months he felt himself reacting to her without having to resort to mental exercises and cold showers to control it.

Her hand made its way up to caress his face and he hesitated for a second when he felt the slide of metal across his cheek. He put his own hand up to cover hers and felt, without doubt, the engagement ring sitting on the third finger of her left hand.

He broke away from her feeling sickness and confusion in the pit of his stomach. He was still holding Molly's left hand and he brought it up between them, looking at her with his eyes narrowed, a wrinkle of concentration between his eyes. This time he looked at her, really looked at her, deducing not just seeing and he saw what he should have spotted before. Molly was no longer his.

MHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly reeled back from Sherlock in shock and disgust at herself. Her left hand was still in Sherlock's grip but she brought her right up to her mouth, touching her lips in disbelief. What had she done? She felt a shard of guilt rip through her at what just happened. How could she have done that to Tom? How could she have forgotten him so quickly and so completely? When Sherlock had bent to kiss her she had thought of nothing but him. He was back, he was here and he wanted her, and in that moment she wanted him too. It was as though her body had a residual memory of him that rose up like a magnet at his touch.

She looked up at Sherlock who looked confused and...and, was that hurt she saw in his eyes. It was so fleeting she couldn't be sure, but as she watched she could almost see the shutters coming down on his eyes. When he raised them to her face again they looked cold, hard.

'I apologise Molly, my actions were inappropriate. It won't happen again.' He paused before continuing, 'I just wanted to let you know of my return, John knows,' at this he grimaced, his hand rising to his face momentarily, ' I am on my way to see Lestrade. I'll no doubt see you in the morgue from time to time.'

With that he turned on his heel and marched out before Molly could stop him.

**So I'm really nervous about this sequel, wondering what you will think and hoping that you'll all stay with me, so please, please let me know what you think. **

**As with The Marriage Sham I'll be posting regular updates.**

**And to JM (Not Moriarty) who asked for a birthday fic , I do have a little something though it's turned a bit darker and isnt very light and fluffy. Will post sometime tomorrow.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2 **

**Wow, wow, wow, your response to this first chapter has been amazing. I am really glad to see so many of you following on with the sequel. **

**Maybe Mycroft was right, all though I begrudge saying that.**

**Normal disclaimers apply...so on with the story...**

So much for his great return. Sherlock had spent the last five days alone with no one but his brother and Mrs Hudson for company. He had settled back into his home in Baker Street and the sheer joy at being back had soon worn off when he'd realised he had no one to share it with. Yes Mrs Hudson popped up rather too regularly with tea, cakes and biscuits (did she think he was Mycroft!) but other than a visit from his brother nothing.

He tried texting John, asking him to come round, trying to tempt him with details of the case but other than one response of 'F**k off' he'd heard nothing.

He had thought of Molly often, especially at night, when he'd slept alone in his bed. Comfortable though it was it suddenly seemed too large on his own so he'd slept on the settee last night.

It was during his conversation with Mycroft that he acknowledged his own loneliness to himself. They'd been talking about friendship, Sherlock was surprised that Mycroft never seemed to need anyone. He used to admire that trait in his older brother, used to try to emulate it himself the way younger siblings often do. But he knew now that he was different from Mycroft. He could no longer go through life alone, no longer wanted to. He'd spent too many months on his own, often having no one to speak to for days on end and he valued the few friends he had all the more for it.

Talking to Mycroft had brought his thoughts back round to Molly and for the first time he realised that leaving her alone in that hospital nearly two years ago had probably not been the best thing for him to do.

He'd been angry and embarrassed when Mycroft had confronted him about losing the lead on Moran. He knew this set back meant he would have to work longer and harder to bring down Moriarty's web, so when his brother had told him to follow up the latest lead in Italy he had gone. It wasn't so he could leave Molly, it was so he could come back to her.

He had hoped that Mycroft would have made that clear to Molly but it appeared he hadn't, and so Molly had moved on in his absence. Not just moved on but got engaged.

At first he raged to himself, determined to find a way to break them up. He would track him down, find out everything about this man, rip himself to shreds in front of Molly exposing his worst secrets.

He remembered back to that day in the lab when he'd met 'Jim from IT' for the first time. He remembered telling Molly 'the truth' as he had seen it about the Consulting Criminal. He also remembered Molly's tears and Johns reproach, 'that, that was not kindness'.

No, he needed to be smarter, play the long game...but he still needed to see Molly. He missed her, wanted to know how she was, what she had been doing.

He knew she was off today, he'd already acquainted himself with her current shift pattern at Bart's. He sent her a quick text _Come to Baker St 10.00. SH_

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Molly was just having her breakfast alone when she received the text from Sherlock.

It had been a few days since the kiss in the locker room and she hadn't heard anything from him since then, she wasn't sure she ever would.

She'd thought long and hard about whether she should tell Tom about the kiss but in the end she couldn't bring herself to do it. She knew for the most part it was cowardice. She didn't want to have to answer his questions about why she had done it and what she felt for Sherlock now. In all honesty she wasn't sure the answer to those questions herself.

She was still ashamed at having fallen into Sherlock's embrace so quickly. She should have been angry with him for leaving her, or distant with him because she now loves Tom not falling at his feet within seconds.

She looked at the text. Her thumb hovered over the delete key. She shouldn't go...she should go into town shopping, maybe pick up some wedding magazines...she should have lunch with Mary, they hadn't caught up in a while...she should...

Damn it... she found herself getting dressed and ordering a cab.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSH

When she arrived at Baker Street Sherlock was waiting for her. He was dressed in one of his slim fitting shirts, buttons straining to hold the material in place on his chest. His shirt and trousers covered by a long burgundy dressing gown. On most men it would look ridiculous but he somehow managed to not just carry it off but look gorgeous as well. He looked a bit healthier than when she'd last seen him and she was surprised again by just how handsome he was...all cheekbones and full lips. She had a sudden memory of how those lips felt when they were on her breast and she blushed.

'You wanted to see me?'

'Yes Molly, would you...would you like to...' 'Have dinner with me,' she filled in. Just as he finished with 'solve crimes.'

Oh...Molly was embarrassed. Of course, he wouldn't ask her out to dinner, what was she thinking.

In the end she spent the full day with Sherlock, initially in the flat as he spoke with two or three clients. At one point she asked if she should be taking notes like John said he had but Sherlock had just looked her in the eye and told her to be herself. She'd blushed once again under his gaze.

It was fascinating watching him interact with clients, seeing the deductions first hand. She had missed this closeness with him since he had left her so many months before. The glances between them, the shared jokes, his wry smirk at the stupidity of some of the people they were talking to.

In the afternoon they went out together to meet with Lestrade at a crime scene. Whilst there was nothing obvious that Molly could put her finger on it felt as though Sherlock was seeking out ways to touch her or be close to her...his hand on her back steering her through a door way, his thigh gently touching hers in the cab on the way over, subtle touches here and there which just made her even more aware than normal that he was back and they were close.

Each time it happened her skin would tingle from the touch and she had to keep reminding herself that she was engaged, that Tom would be waiting to see her later in the evening.

On top of all that she felt sorry for Sherlock. It was obvious during his examination of the mocked up skeleton that he was missing John deeply. She hadn't managed to get to the bottom of what exactly had happened between them but she knew the reunion had been violent and ended badly. She knew John and was sure that he would come round. It wasn't in his nature to hold a grudge but she did understand his hurt and frustration, after all she'd gone through it herself when Sherlock had abruptly left her in that hospital.

She was surprised she wasn't angrier with him. She had been. She'd spent months wanting to scream at him or slap him for going without so much as a note or a backward glance. But then she'd met Tom and he'd been so kind and so different to Sherlock. She had finally moved on, but now Sherlock was back and whilst she knew she was happy with Tom and wanted to continue that relationship she was enjoying this time with Sherlock.

It came to a head after they'd finished their visit with the train fanatic. Sherlock had ordered her to find maps of the London Underground system before offering to buy her chips when she suddenly realised she needed to put a stop to this.

She hesitated on the stairs saying, 'Sherlock, what was today about?'

'Saying Thank You', was his quick response.

She wrinkled her nose in confusion, 'for what?'

'For everything you did for me.' He looked her straight in the eye and she felt herself falling under his spell, how did he always manage to unbalance her. 'S'OK, my pleasure.'

Sherlock looked serious, 'No, I mean it.'

'I don't mean pleasure, I mean I didn't mind, I wanted to.' Molly wasn't quite sure what they were talking about now, the fall, the time at the cottage, sleeping with each other.

Sherlock clarified without being asked, 'Moriarty slipped up, he made a mistake. Because the one person he thought didn't matter at all to me was the one person that mattered the most.' Molly's heart missed a beat before he continued, 'you made it all possible.'

He sighed and then said sadly 'But you can't do this again, can you?'

Molly thought her heart was going to break, at that moment she was so torn. Her attraction to Sherlock was still so strong but her life with Tom gave her a future. When Sherlock added his congratulations she found herself babbling, telling Sherlock all about her life with Tom until she wasn't sure who she was trying to convince about her happiness him or herself.

Once again Sherlock pinned her with his eyes, 'I hope you'll be very happy Molly Hooper. You deserve it. After all not all the men you fall for can turn out to be sociopaths.'

'Hmm', her brain had stopped working, he was giving up on them, not even going to fight for her. Sherlock bent down to kiss her on the cheek before turning and walking away. 'Maybe that's just my type,' she said quietly to his retreating form.

As she walked outside the cold air seemed to match the sudden cold she felt in her heart. She watched Sherlock walking away before turning in the opposite direction to go and meet Tom.

**I know, I know but don't give up on them just yet. There's still a way to go and Sherlock is playing the long game remember!**

**As ever make my day and review or follow or favourite. **


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Normal thank you's apply, I appreciate each and every review, favourite and follow. **

**Here's my take on the 'we're having a lot of sex' scene, hope you like it.**

**Disclaimer - I own nothing but love playing with it all.**

It had been a while since Molly had spent any serious time with Sherlock.

John's wedding to Mary was coming up and Molly was very conscious that she hadn't set a date or done any kind of preparation for her own wedding to Tom. He'd asked her more than once when they should get married, suggesting dates himself, but she'd said she didn't want to rain on John and Mary's day by setting her own date yet. It was a feeble excuse and she knew it. Deep down she was ignoring why she didn't want to set a date, and there was only one reason...Sherlock.

The last time she'd seen him was when he swung into the morgue, John in tow, demanding to see the body of Mr Alexander, a 45 year old Accountant who had been found murdered in a locked office at work. Once again Sherlock had the case worked out within a few hours much to the relief of Lestrade. He'd just tilted his head and said 'Molly' as he left the room and her heart had sunk as he went.

It was as though they were falling back into their old patterns of communication, the ones before the 'fall'. She missed him, but with Tom in her life she didn't know how she could change that. She wanted to be close to Sherlock again, like they had been when they'd been living together at the cottage but it wouldn't be fair to Tom. It was like a puzzle she couldn't solve. She'd been so convinced that Sherlock had feelings for her, he'd even kissed her that first day he'd been back, but then nothing. She knew she wasn't being reasonable, she was the one who was engaged, not Sherlock, maybe she had just been hoping he would do something, say something to show he cared enough to fight for her.

It was as she was musing this over that Sherlock arrived in the lab carrying a folder under his arm.

'Ah, Molly, you're looking well. How's...' Sherlock looked confused for a moment, a slight grimace on his face, '...Tom?'

'Still not a sociopath,' Molly joked back, 'we're having quite a lot of sex.'

As Molly said the words she wondered where on earth they came from. It was not anything that she had planned to say. She felt a deep blush on her cheeks and saw Sherlock's utter confusion at the statement. Was that why she'd said it, she wondered. To get a reaction from him, see what he would do. It wasn't even that true. Yes they had had a lot of sex in the early days but it had dwindled down recently _since Sherlock came back_ said a small voice at the back of her mind.

Turned out that Sherlock was planning John's Stag Night and was keen not to get too drunk. Molly giggled and remarked, 'urinating in wardrobes bad', to his 'light headed good'.

She couldn't help reminding him as they worked on the calculations about the night he got drunk at Gordon's before throwing up.

Sherlock just looked at her before laughing himself, a deep low chuckle that seemed to roll through Molly's entire body. 'Yes, exactly, I don't want to be throwing up at anyone's feet this time round'.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock had been doing so well recently. He had sealed up Molly's room within his mind palace for the time being, biding his time, hoping, knowing that Molly would come to her senses about this inferior substitute that she insisted on being with.

He hadn't reacted initially when she'd told him that her and Dim were having a lot of sex but as they worked together in the lab the statement kept echoing around in his mind. He knew she wasn't being entirely truthful, he'd seen the small signs that told him she was lying, but why was she lying? Why had she said it? He also didn't like the images that came unbidden into his mind of Molly calling out Tom's name and not his own.

He tried to get his thoughts under control, tried to concentrate on the calculations that Molly was working through but it was no good. As she turned away from him to go and get them both coffee he found himself on his feet, striding after her before spinning her round and pushing her against the edge of the lab desk.

He put his hands either side of her and leant over her, glowering down into her shocked eyes. He heard her breath hitch, saw her pupils dilate and knew if he pressed his fingers to her pulse her heart would be racing. Slowly, ever so slowly, giving her time to push him away, prove that she didn't want him, he lowered his lips towards hers.

His head was swimming with all the emotion he was feeling, all those months that he'd kept everything locked away starting to seep out and spill into his very soul.

Just before their mouths touched he saw her eyes close, her lips opening slightly for him. He kissed her and felt the shock crackle through his system. He wanted this, wanted her. He was no longer content to be alone, isolated like Mycroft was.

He groaned and the kiss deepened. He gripped the desk harder, determined to control this, to not lose himself in her just yet. He was old fashioned enough to want her to be his, to not be tied to some other fool. He felt her push herself against him, her hands sliding from his chest under his jacket and round to his back and he felt his body reacting, felt himself getting hard for her. He needed to end this before it went too far.

He pulled back, trying to control his breathing as he looked into Molly's eyes, 'just remember, next time you're having lots of sex with that idiot, that we both know it'll be me you're thinking about!'

With that he swung round grabbed his coat and folder and stalked out of the room.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly's legs felt weak, she half fell onto a nearby stool as she tried to gather her thoughts and understand what had just taken place.

It had all happened so fast, one minute she was thinking about maths and coffee, the next Sherlock had her pinned against the desk and she couldn't think, couldn't breath. He was all around her, his scent, the feel of him, his eyes had her locked in place like a deer caught in the headlights. She'd never seen him so sexually dominant before and she had never been more turned on in her life.

She lifted her hand and watched the tremors that were still running though her and knew he was right. How was she ever going to be able to sleep with Tom again and not think of Sherlock? It was at that moment that she knew the relationship with Tom was dead, but she also knew she couldn't end it just yet. Tom was away on business and wasn't coming home next week just in time for the wedding, all the plans were in place, outfits and present bought.

_I'll wait until after the wedding_ Molly thought to herself, nodding. She felt a pang of guilt and a pit of nerves starting in her stomach at what she was going to do but she couldn't continue with this farce of an engagement any longer, it wasn't fair to either Tom, Sherlock or herself.

**So Molly's made her decision. Let me know what you thought, is she doing the right thing? Did you believe Sherlock's reaction?**

**Next chapter, the wedding! Until then Adieu.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

**So here we are, the wedding scenes. i always, always hated Sherlock leaving and no one noticing so this was my chance to change all that. The more astute amongst you (so everyone) will have noticed that the rating has changed to M. What do our pair get up to? Only one way to find out...read on! See you in the flip side :).**

**Disclaimer - if I could own one thing it would be Sherlock (or Benedict, I'm not fussy) but I don't :(.**

Sherlock wasn't quite sure what he had expected to come from his visit to the morgue but it hadn't been nothing. He also hadn't expected to have a raging hangover and to have been abruptly awoken in a prison cell by an overly loud Lestrade so maybe his expectations all round were off.

It was the morning of the wedding and he had heard precisely nothing from Molly and as far as he could glean from John, without arousing suspicion she AND Tim were due to come to the wedding...together.

Internally Sherlock was seething. He had expected what exactly, Molly to fall at his feet, to come running after him...and then what. Maybe Mycroft was right, what good was sentiment, he was just getting himself tied up in knots without any clear result. Weddings were just mawkish drivel with people going into them with unrealistic expectations. The only reason he was going to this was for John, sentimental, romantic fool that he was. He'd proved his idiocy by not only having himself, Sherlock, as a best friend but actually asking him to be his best man.

Well, Sherlock was not going to let him down again, he would be the best, best man he could manage. He clenched his jaw, adjusting his tie in the mirror and then left his bedroom.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

It would be nice to say the wedding passed off without a hitch. The actual ceremony went well, the problem came when Sherlock realised there would be a murder attempt as he was giving his best man's speech.

Molly had to admit it had lent an air of uniqueness to the wedding. It had been amazing watching Sherlock work through the problem verbally for once. He looked so delicious in his outfit, complete with tails, she just wanted to ruffle his hair up for him and help him out of it. She bit her lip, looking down at the champagne glass in her hand. Get a grip Molly, she thought, you're still here with another man.

She was regretting not having ended things with Tom yesterday when she'd met up with him after his trip. It had seemed the right thing to do at the time, wait until after the wedding, but now she was living through it she felt awful. She was guilt ridden, hated the lying and wished she were here with Sherlock instead. As for when Tom had stood up in the reception and given his own deduction of 'meat dagger'. She blushed for him, remembering the look of utter disdain on Sherlock's face.

She looked around at all the couples now gathered on the dance floor. Sherlock's violin piece for John and Mary's first dance had been beautiful and brought tears to her eyes. Would he write something like that for them one day?

She looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. When she had been dancing earlier he had been on the dance floor with John and Mary but he wasn't there now. Tom touched her arm. She looked up at him, remembering to smile. 'Would you like to dance again, Molly? Maybe get some practice in for our wedding?' He smiled at her and Molly suddenly felt sick. ' I, ah, in a bit maybe, I've erm, just got to go to the bathroom.'

She slipped out of his grasp and made her way through the guests, heading towards the exit where the toilets were located. The doors to the garden were wide open, letting some much needed air into the heated ballroom. Molly glanced out as she went past and then stopped short before backing up a pace and looking again.

Yes, there was Sherlock, making his way through the gardens, throwing his coat on, his outline unmistakeable. He was leaving.

She didn't think about what she was doing or what she would say she just ran after him, as best she could in shoes that were really starting to blister her feet.

He turned a corner on the path, the bushes hiding him from her view. She could feel some drops of rain starting to hit as she turned the corner eager to catch up with him only to find him stood there waiting for her. He caught her arms to stop her barrelling into him.

'Molly?' He looked down at her, 'what are you doing out here? Go back to where you belong.'

Molly caught her breath at the harshness in his tone. 'I, what, I don't understand...'

Sherlock, had had enough. The jealousy, the frustration flowed out if him.

'Little Molly Hooper, wanting her cake and eating it. Coming to the wedding with her fiancée on her arm, wearing your matching vomit inducing outfits. I know you, Molly, I know who you are and what you want. You want the perfect future, the good boyfriend, the obedient husband, the brood of kids running round your ankles. You know me, you know that isn't who I am, I can't and won't give you what you want. So I get it Molly. Go back to your fake boyfriend, your weak clone of me. I hope you'll both be very happy.'

Molly had heard Sherlock being spiteful and hurtful before, hell she'd even heard him be this cruel to herself before but she hadn't expected him to turn on her like this. All the anger that she'd felt after he'd left her all those months ago came to the surface and she slapped him hard across the face.

As soon as she'd done it she dropped her hand in shock, her other rising to her mouth. 'Oh God, I'm so sorry Sherlock.'

'No...you're not!' And with that he pushed her back hard against a tree, kissing her before her back had even made contact. Her breath was knocked from her with the force but Molly wasn't thinking of that. All she could think of was Sherlock, his hands were already pulling her skirts up, pushing her up further against the tree.

Molly wanted him, more than she'd ever wanted anyone before. Part of her brain was telling her that here and now was not the right place but before she could vocalise anything she felt Sherlock thrust two fingers into her and she couldn't remember her own name let alone what she'd been thinking. His kiss was hard and brutal, his tongue forcing its way into her mouth. She could feel him hard against her leg and groaned, wanting him inside her already.

His thumb swirled around her clit as his fingers pumped relentlessly in and out. Oh God she was going to come against a tree, in the middle of a wedding reception, what was she doing?

She heard his zip on his trousers and he removed his fingers, pulling away from her as he did. She looked at him, desperate for him to continue, squirming against him in frustration. He looked her in the eye as he brought his fingers to his lips before sliding them into him mouth, tasting her.

Molly had never felt so unbelievably aroused, she knew they could be found at any moment and just simply didn't care. If anything it made the whole experience even more erotic.

She felt him position himself at her entrance and then he was pushing into her, his lips on her throat, his hands lifting and holding her against the tree. She could feel the bark digging into her back but it only seemed to heighten her nerve endings. She had her hands dug into Sherlock's curls pulling his head down to her breasts.

He unzipped the back of her dress and dragged the strap off her shoulder allowing him to pull the dress down on one side, releasing her breast to him.

Molly could feel the orgasm starting to build inside her, that moment of pure desire just before it takes over. She didn't want the moment to end, wanted to feel this sensation for ever, but as he bit down on her nipple she fell over the edge. Felt her muscles contracting around him and his rhythm faltering as his own orgasm started.

He brought his mouth back to hers, muffling her cries and his own.

Gradually Molly came back to her senses. Sherlock lowered her down so her feet were back on the ground before he put his hand up to straighten up the side of her dress. Her bow had fallen, or been ripped, out at some point and was lying forlornly on the floor.

Molly had no idea what to say, she couldn't believe she had not only had sex with Sherlock but that they had done it in such a public place. She didn't know whether to feel elated or mortified. They both arranged their clothing in silence, neither really looking at the other.

Eventually Sherlock stood up straight and murmured a quick, 'goodnight Molly', before walking off into the darkness.

**Well, I was shocked I can tell you when they decided to follow this path. I told them it was wrong and too public but did they listen...No. **

**Let me know what you think and come back soon to see what happens next. I'll try and post a couple more chapters this week as I'm away the week after and won't have any opportunity for updating.**

**As always please, please, please let me know what you think. I love reading your comments and thoughts it gives me inspiration.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**Thanks for all the responses to the previous chapter. I was a bit nervous about how it would be taken. It is odd the way the characters go in a different direction from the one I intended for them. Having said that I did want them to have sex I just thought they would have found somewhere a bit more discreet.**

**So, on to the aftermath. Normal disclaimers apply.**

Molly had been on an emotional roller coaster over the last few weeks since the wedding.

She'd finally made her way back into the wedding venue stopping in the ladies toilets to try to reassemble her outfit and hair. Thankfully the dance floor was dark and most people, including Tom, were well on their way to being all out drunk so nobody questioned either where she had been or her appearance.

She cried off from the celebrations early making her way alone up to the hotel room she and Tom had booked.

She quickly stripped out of the dress and set the shower to scalding. She needed to feel clean again. If she were to have looked at herself clinically she would have realised that she was in a state of shock, emotionally as well as physically. She ended up curled up in the bed still shaking from the experience.

The mortification from the event was starting to wear off now it seemed that they had got away with it and not been seen. What she was left with now was confusion as to what had happened. One minute they had been fighting, literally in her case when she had slapped him, the next she was engaged in the best sex of her life. Sherlock had been forceful, dominant and had just taken from her what he wanted and she was a bit ashamed to admit she had loved every minute of it.

It was a world away from the gentle sex she had with Tom. Oh God, poor Tom, what was she going to tell him? She knew she needed to tell him and quickly but when she heard him putting the key card in the door she rolled over and pretended to be fast asleep.

In the end it had been two days later when she'd finally had the break up conversation with him in her small flat. It had been awful, he'd been devastated. She hadn't been brave enough to tell him about 'sleeping' with Sherlock, instead she let him know that her feelings had changed since Sherlock had come back. He'd known about her crush but when Sherlock had been dead it had never seemed an issue, he was starting to understand that it was now.

He'd begged her to given them another chance. In the end she had agreed to have a break, to go away to her mother's house and think through her future. He promised not to bother her but asked her to think about whether she was prepared to walk away from everything they had planned, marriage, kids, normality. It sounded so sensible that she had agreed, knew she needed to think about all of this particularly in light of what Sherlock had said to her the night of the wedding.

And so she'd taken two weeks off work and gone away.

It had been good going back home, talking to her mum about mundane things and remembering her dad, thinking about what he would have thought of it all. She tried to imagine him meeting Tom and Sherlock, tried to think about what he would have advised. Tom had everything going for him but her heart lay with Sherlock who was promising nothing. If anything he had told her they would never get married, never have kids, he probably wouldn't even be her boyfriend. But likewise she couldn't stay with Tom when she felt so strongly about someone else.

In the end that was what she told Tom when she met with him to return his ring. She was genuinely sorry to have hurt him and when she left him she went home and cried. She cried for the life she was giving up by making this choice, grieving for the children she would never have.

It took her another two or three weeks before she felt ready to see Sherlock and explore what they might have.

He hadn't been to the morgue, thankfully. John had been on his honeymoon with Mary so it had all been fairly quiet.

She decided, finally, after much prevarication to go round at see him at Baker Street. It would be better to talk there rather than waiting for him to appear at work.

She waited til she had a day off and then, bristling with nervous excitement she treated herself to a taxi to take her there.

When she arrived Mrs Hudson let her in, chatting happily about the wedding and John and Mary, 'you go on up dear, I'm sure he's awake, I've heard movement.' She smiled at Molly as she shoo'ed her up the stairs.

Molly was feeling very nervous by now. She tried to calm her breathing as she went up the stairs, berating herself. This was a man she had had amazing sex with twice, she'd lived with him at her flat and in the cottage for almost three months..._but it's still Sherlock Holmes and he's still an unknown quantity _said her traitorous brain.

In the end she knocked on the door of the flat before pushing it open and calling his name.

At first she though the flat was empty but then she heard sounds coming from his bedroom. She made her way further into the flat until she could see the door to his room. She was just about to say his name again when she heard a woman's voice coming from the bedroom, 'hi Sherly is that you, you're back sooner than expected.'

The door opened and there, wrapped in one of Sherlock's dressing gowns was the bridesmaid from John's wedding.

Molly's stomach dropped, she felt a bit dizzy and had to put her hand out to the wall to steady herself.

'Oh hi, sorry I thought you were Sherlock, he popped out a short while ago but it's never quite clear when he'll be back. Can I help you at all or pass on a message? I'm Janine by the way, you seem familiar, were you at the wedding?'

'I..yes..I was. Molly...erm..Molly Hooper. I work at the morgue at St. Barts.'

'Oh God, all those disgusting body parts that Sherly used to have. I made him get rid of those and promise to never bring more home. I've never had a boyfriend with such weird habits before, but I suppose that's what makes him unique, wouldn't you agree?' She laughed as she bustled around the kitchen. 'Do you want a cuppa? You can wait for him if you want?'

'I..no..I just wanted to check he..err..he hadn't borrowed any equipment,' said Molly lamely. She just wanted to get out of there, but curiosity got the better of her. 'You were Mary's bridesmaid weren't you? Is that how you met Sherlock?'

'Yes, to be honest with you I tried to crack on to him at the wedding but he didn't seem interested at all. Must admit I thought he was gay, but then we bumped into each other, a few weeks ago, outside where I work, he took me for coffee and we just clicked. He's so sweet isn't he? Sure you don't want a drink?'

Sweet was a word Molly had never heard in association with Sherlock! She felt confused and a little bit sick, 'no, thank you, I'd better get to work, thanks again...bye.' She turned and fled. She could hear Janine calling after her that she'd let Sherlock know she'd called round.

Molly felt as though she couldn't breath, it felt as thought the walls were closing in on her. She stumbled down the stairs and finally made it to the door.

As she flung it open gulping in the fresh air she saw Sherlock walking towards her from a taxi. His head was down looking at a box in his hand that he was transferring to his inside jacket pocket.

Molly recognised that box, it was the box that held his grandmothers engagement ring.

**I know , I know, I'm so sorry. That's where the season went so that's where I have to go. **

**So poor Molly, she finally picks Sherlock only to find him surprisingly unavailable. I tried hard not to dislike Janine in the series but was gutted for Molly. Have also heard that Janine might make a return in Season 4, hope she doesnt start treading on Mollys toes in the series. Molly is the only true love interest for Sherlock (once he's had his fun with John) in my humble opinion.**

**Let me know what you think. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

**Your reviews keep me going, thank you for each and every one. I love hearing your opinions about the story as well as the show. **

**So we move onto the next chapter. Enjoy and remember I own nothing!**

Molly needed to get out of there before she fainted, threw up or burst into tears. Her nerves of a few minutes ago and her plans to try and start a relationship with Sherlock were in tatters.

She saw the taxi and called to the driver to wait. At the sound of her voice Sherlock looked up, surprise written all over his face. 'Molly', he said starting to smile.

Molly pushed past him but he caught her arm swinging her round to face him. 'Wait Molly, what...'

'Let. Me. Go...please.' She pulled her arm out of his grasp and plunged into the taxi.

Sherlock was knocking on the window calling her name but she urged the driver to pull away before slumping back in her seat, eyes closed.

When she got back to her flat she managed to close the door before she slid down to the floor and burst into tears.

Her mind was still spinning, what on earth had happened? Of all the scenarios she had planned out in her mind Sherlock having another girlfriend hadn't even occurred to her. As far as she was aware he had never dated anyone in his life, but maybe he had, after all what had she ever really known of his personal life. John had commented on him being married to his work but that didn't really say much.

She'd given up everything, everything for Sherlock and this, this was more than just a slap in the face. It felt as though her heart had been torn out of her chest.

She knew she was being unfair, he had made her no promises and she couldn't have married Tom knowing she loved someone else but it felt like any hope she had harboured of being with Sherlock was now dead.

He had been and got his grandmothers engagement ring. She'd worn that very ring herself, knew from Mycroft that it had sentimental value as a family heirloom. Why would Sherlock have got it if it wasn't to propose to Janine?

Molly's stomach roiled, she made her way through to the bathroom thinking she might throw up. It was all a disaster.

SHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH

Sherlock lay on the settee later that same day and finally turned his mind to Molly.

He had managed to get rid of the interminable Janine by saying he had a case he needed to work on. She really was intolerable with her inane chatter and her need to be touching him all the bloody time.

It had been a stroke of fortune meeting her outside Magnusson's building. He'd seen her come out and wondered what her connection was so he'd made a point of bumping into her, apologising and then pretending to recognise her from the wedding. He'd asked her to coffee to subtly quiz her about her job there and had been amazed to hear she was Magnusson's PA, it was providence.

He remembered her attraction to him at the wedding, he'd snubbed her that time but realised he could make use of it now, so he'd asked her out.

That had been about five weeks ago and it had been the longest five weeks of Sherlock's life. He hated it, the dates, the kissing, the constant smiling...he couldn't even conduct his experiments in his own flat! And for the past three weeks he'd been trying to get out of sex. He'd told her he wanted to wait until he was married, wanted it to be special, but she kept trying to seduce him. She'd sleep over in his bed, wearing next to nothing...ugh.

From conversations with her he knew she took her job very seriously. She wouldn't let him come up to her office on a whim. He'd been through all the variables in his mind and had calculated that a proposal would be the best way forward. Based on their current relationship he felt that he could successfully propose in 17 more days. Once he'd gained access he could bring an end to this whole fake relationship. He couldn't wait!

The only 'fly in the ointment' now was Molly. He'd been avoiding the morgue and had hoped to get through this aspect of the case without her ever knowing. He'd never expected her to come to Baker Street. Her recalled how his heart had clenched when he saw her, was that sentiment? He'd wanted to touch her, talk to her, he (his face screwed up in confusion)...missed her. Yes, he missed her.

The night of the wedding came unbidden into his mind. He had been shocked by what he, no they, had done. He had never lost control so fully as he had that night. He had been overwhelmed with anger and jealousy and when Molly had slapped him he had just snapped, all the pent up emotion pouring out of him. He was horrified of the loss of control but had to admit it was without doubt the best sex of his life.

But it wasn't just about the sex. He wanted Molly, wanted her to be his and no one else's. It felt very caveman but he didn't care. The current dilemma was what to do now she knew about Janine. He needed Janine to help end the case. There was no other way into Magnusson's private office. Plus he still remembered his brother's mocking tones when he'd found out that Sherlock had put Molly's safety above that of the case. They could have captured Moran at the cottage, he might not have needed to spend another 18 months being 'dead'. No, he needed to finish this case and then he could fix things with Molly. It was only another 17 days.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly hadn't heard anything from Sherlock since the day she'd run out of his flat. Once again a small part of her had hoped he would seek her out, would give her some perfectly plausible explanation but once again she had heard nothing.

The last two weeks had been awful, she'd felt as though she were on auto-pilot. She'd go into work, do her job with limited enthusiasm, come home, spend the evening watching rubbish on the TV with Toby. It felt as though a part of her had died.

It was one such day when John burst into the lab towing a dishevelled Sherlock behind him, Mary and another tramp following behind. She had never seen Sherlock looking so scruffy, he looked, and smelt, like one of his homeless network. John had fury rolling off him in waves. He grabbed a beaker from the side and thrust it at Sherlock 'piss in here, git'.

Sherlock grimaced in disgust but he shambled off to the mens toilets whilst John flung himself onto a stool and turned to Molly. 'Sorry Molls I didn't know where else to take him. Would you believe I found him in a drugs den? Says he was there on a case but you know his history as well as I do...can you run the tests Molly? I don't want to make this official and involve the police or anything.'

'Yes, of course John'. Molly was shocked, she knew Sherlock would do a lot for his work, but to risk his health like this. She hoped John was wrong.

As it was the tests came back clean but Molly was still furious. She knew that she was sublimating some of her anger over their non existent relationship but she couldn't help herself. She went and stood in front of him.

Even dirty and dishevelled he was still gorgeous, she wished again she weren't so attracted to him but she was. She slapped him, once, twice, three times. 'How dare you throw away the beautiful gifts you were born with? How dare you betray the love of your friends? Say you're sorry!'

Molly saw the reciprocal anger flash in Sherlock's eyes. She felt the spike of lust rip through her as she remembered that night at the wedding. She knew, absolutely knew that Sherlock had the same memory. He spat back 'sorry your engagement is over, though I'm fairly grateful for the lack of a ring.'

'Don't, just don't.' She walked away leaving John to pick up the argument. She needed to get her feelings under control. He wasn't hers, not any more... if he ever was. He was someone else's responsibility now. She wondered if Janine knew about his sojourn in the drug dens and then decided she didn't care. Let someone else worry about him for once!

**So sparks are still flying between them. Hope it's all sounding reasonable and fits. **

**It's much harder to write around the episodes rather than just doing your own thing. **

**I'll try to upload one more chapter before I go on holiday, but I can't guarantee it. If not it will be a week on Sunday.**

**As ever, please review, favourite or follow, it all warms the cockles of my heart.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**Right, I've managed to find myself a small window of opportunity in amongst the packing to upload this.**

**Apologies if there are any typo's as I haven't had as much time to check as normal. Any bad ones let me know and I'll sort them out on my return.**

**Rocking the Redhead – I hadn't thought of the whole bolthole angle. Doesn't fit into this story but I love the idea. Could I use it as a prompt for another separate story?**

**Anyhow, enough from me – on with the story.**

It was less than a week later when Molly's friend Meena ran into the morgue. She was out of breath from the run, her hand on her chest as she gestured at Molly.

'That guy, the one you fancy, he's just been brought in, gunshot wound.'

'Sherlock, you mean Sherlock?' Asked Molly desperately hoping Meena had got it wrong.

'Yes that's the one. He came in about ten minutes ago, to A&E. His friend was with him, the short one.'

_Oh God _thought Molly _please let him be OK_

She made her way up to A&E looking out for John as she went. She finally found him near the desk arguing with the receptionist about the need to fill out some forms.

'John, John what happened, how is he?'

As soon as John saw Molly he came over embracing her, 'oh God Molly, it's not good. We almost lost him in the ambulance. He's been rushed straight to surgery. I'm just filling in these bloody pointless forms, but no one's telling me anything.' He shot an angry look at the receptionist who just ignored him, used to patient's relatives taking out their fears and anger on her.

'Come on John, let me help you. I'll see if I can find out what's happening from one of the doctors.'

MHMHMHMHMHMHMH

They eventually ended up in a private family's waiting room. John had rung Mary and she was on her way over. He'd also spoken to Mrs Hudson who was waiting at home for more news, Mrs Turner from next door was going to come round and keep her company.

Molly cleared her throat not really wanting to ask the next question but trying to think about what Sherlock would want, 'what about Janine? Do you need to get in touch with her?'

John looked up surprised, 'you..errr..you know about Janine?'

'Yes, I called round a couple of weeks ago and met her then...it seemed quite serious between them. I'm sure she'd want to know.'

John looked uncomfortable, 'listen Molly, you know what Sherlock is like, yeah! He can be a complete arse sometimes. Well, truth is the relationship with Janine was all fake. None of it was true, it was all for a case. He even planned a fake engagement and proposed this evening but it was all just to get into an office. I know he's cold but I never thought he'd go this far. Not even sure whether Janine realises, she was in the office when Sherlock got shot, she'd been knocked out, some kind of sedative. As far as I know she was brought here separately.'

Molly couldn't believe what she was hearing. It had all been a lie. He had got into a relationship and lied for weeks just to break into an office. She certainly shared John's shock at the lengths he would go to. But what did that mean for her and Sherlock. At this moment she just wanted him to survive so she could slap him all over again.

It was a few hours later when the doctor came in to give them the good news that Sherlock had survived the surgery. 'He's a fighter that one, almost pronounced him dead on the operating table but he should make a full recovery in time.'

John and Molly both wept with relief. Molly offered to sit with Sherlock for the next few hours whilst John went home, cleaned up and got a bit of sleep. He thanked her profusely before taking Mary's hand and exiting the room.

Molly made her way down the corridor. It was the middle of the night, not normal visiting hours but her staff badge gave her some privileges.

Sherlock's room was quiet apart from the regular beeping of his heart monitor. He looked so pale in the semi darkness. Molly sat at the side of his bed and took his hand in hers. It felt cold to the touch. Molly brought it up to her face kissing the back before placing it against her face.

'Oh Sherlock, you amazing, mad, stupid idiot, what have you done,' she murmured into the dark. She knew she should be angrier but he looked so pale and vulnerable hooked up to the machines keeping him alive that all she felt was gratitude that he was still here.

When John arrived a few hours later Molly was asleep with her head on the edge of the bed, Sherlock's hand still entwined in her own.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly kept in touch with John over the next few days keeping tabs on Sherlock's recovery. She realised soon enough that Janine had learnt the truth when she saw the headlines on some of the tabloid press. At first she was shocked and hurt by the stories but John let slip that none of them were true and that Sherlock had assured him, for what it was worth, that he hadn't gone that far in pursuit of a case. It wasn't much of a line to draw though considering the emotional distress he must have caused.

Molly knew she'd have to call in and see him at some point but she wasn't quite sure what she would say or what she even wanted from him. He'd made it perfectly clear that he wasn't boyfriend material but she wanted, no needed, some level of commitment from him. She couldn't go on as they were.

In the end she waited until he had been officially discharged from hospital as opposed to the unofficial romp that he'd taken two weeks earlier. He'd been resettled at Baker St and John appeared to have moved back in to look after him. Molly was surprised by this turn of events and wondered if Mary were happy with the arrangement.

In the end she texted John to find out when would be a good time to come round and found herself offering to look after Sherlock whilst John covered a shift at work, he was down on his hours due to the shooting and needed to show his face.

She turned up shortly after John had left bringing some food and reading material with her. She thought he might appreciate reading some of her old _Pathologist Monthly_ magazines.

He was dozing in the settee when she arrived so she quietly made her way through to the kitchen, putting some of the food in the, thankfully headless, fridge and putting the kettle on to make them both a drink.

'Tea for me please John,' called Sherlock.

'Wrong deduction Sherlock, you must be slipping in your old age,' she called back playfully.

'Molly!'

God, how could his voice, just saying her name cause such delicious shivers to run down her spine.

She brought the tea things through to the front room and sat down on the edge of the settee by his legs.

'Hey,' she said shyly, 'how are you feeling?'

'Like I've been shot. You?' He countered with a smirk.

'Honestly Sherlock, relieved that your alive but furious at what you did to Janine.'

He rolled his eyes, 'God, don't you start, I've already heard enough from John. It was for a case, it meant nothing.'

'It didn't mean nothing to me Sherlock.'

They were quiet for a few minutes, Molly moved to pour the tea but Sherlock caught hold of her hand. He threaded his fingers through hers pulling her round to face him.

'I am truly sorry for any hurt that I caused you Molly. I get carried away when I'm on a case. I didn't think it would impact you but I see now that I was wrong.'

'And is that case finished?' Molly asked chewing her bottom lip.

'No, not yet but I anticipate it soon will be. At least once I'm back on my feet. Which brings me back to how bored I'm feeling?' Sherlock looked slyly at Molly. He circled his thumb across the back of. Molly's hand.

'What...no...Sherlock! For one thing, I'm still mad at you, for another you're ill and last but not least we aren't even in a relationship.'

'Ugh relationships, over rated. Can't we just be us Molly, no expectations?'

'No Sherlock we can't. I wish we could but I need more than that. I don't need hearts and flowers but I do need to know that you care and that you're there for me, and I don't just mean sexually.'

Sherlock slumped back into the cushions, grimacing at the pain in his chest. He suspected it wasn't just connected to the bullet wound but he wasn't quite ready to admit it yet.

Molly continued, 'take some time Sherlock, finish the case, think about the future. I'll still be here when you're done.'

Sherlock didn't reply just steepled his hands under his chin, eyes closed.

Molly sighed, 'maybe I should just go?'

'No...I...I've missed you. Stay...please.'

She looked down into Sherlock's eyes which were now open. He looked almost shy.

'Oh, OK then.'

When John came back from work he found Sherlock and Molly both lying asleep on the couch, Sherlock's arm around Molly's shoulders her face tucked into his neck.

John started at the sight but then smiled happily to himself _maybe there's hope for the pain-in-the-arse, irritating git yet _he thought.

**Sorry you really will have to wait a week now for the next update. We're getting close to the end of our story though. **

**Please let me know what you thought, I love to read your reviews and comments.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**Yay, I'm back, did you miss me? Did you miss me? Did you miss me? :). This story is coming to a close now, only this chapter and one more. Thanks for sticking with me and I hope the ending is everything you want it to be.**

**I was busy writing on holiday though so there are more stories to come starting with a smutty one shot that I'll post tomorrow (not connected to this story).**

**As ever I own nothing.**

It took longer than Sherlock had hoped to finish the case and he had to admit that the final solution was not one that he had originally envisaged.

It had been touch and go as to whether he would ever even see Molly again and that was probably the push he needed to make a decision about their future.

As he'd sat on the plane having made peace with the fact that he was being sent on a suicide mission his only big regret had been that he hadn't pursued a relationship with her. He hadn't even been able to bring himself to say goodbye to her, he knew it would be too painful for both of them. Instead he had entrusted a letter with Mycroft to be delivered if/when his time was up.

In the end he'd received a last minute reprieve thanks to Moriarty, of all people. The image which was seen across the country ensured his survival. He was more than a little suspicious that Mycroft might prove to be at the bottom of it all but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Instead he made his way back to Baker Street determined that now was the time to embark on a new life.

His first task on his return was to text Molly.

_New Year's Eve. 8.00pm. Your flat. SH_

About a minute after he'd sent it he could almost hear John's voice in his head 'not good Sherlock!'

He huffed before sending a second text.

_Hope that's OK? SH_

A few moments later he received a reply

_OK sounds good, should I get anything in? Mx_

_No, will bring supplies with me. SH_

He then sat down to think about exactly what he wanted to say.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly Hooper was nervous. She had heard from Mary that the big case, whatever it was was now done and dusted and she had received text messages from Sherlock which intimated that he had made a decision. She could only hope that it was a positive one.

She had missed him. It had been well over a month since that day in his flat and whilst she'd seen him a couple of times at the morgue it had always been in the presence of other people. Granted John had offered to leave them alone a couple of times, with a smirk on his face, but Sherlock had always looked non plussed and demanded he stay to help out.

By the time New Years Eve came round Molly had worked herself up into a state. She was convinced that Sherlock was just going to let her down again. She made sure she had plenty if wine, chocolate and tissues in the flat just in case. It wasn't as though he didn't have form for letting her down.

At five to eight the doorbell rang. Molly wiped her hands on her dress, breathed deeply and went to answer the door.

As ever her first sight of Sherlock took her breath away. He smiled when he saw her and Molly felt her heart lift a bit, may be, just may be everything would be OK.

He made his way into the living room depositing his bags on the coffee table before removing his coat and scarf.

Molly smiled to herself when she saw her favourite purple shirt. God, that man could wear a suit, he looked delicious.

She offered him a glass of wine and was pleasantly surprised when he said yes. She knew he wasn't a big drinker and as far as she could remember the last two occasions had ended in massive hangovers.

He followed her into the kitchen and she almost dropped his glass when she turned to find him standing just behind her.

She looked up into his face her eyes drinking in the sight of him so close, his eyes, his full lips, those cheekbones.

'Molly', he sighed. 'You asked me to think about our...relationship...and I want you to know that I have given it much thought. You know that I am not a romantic man, I don't or at least I have never previously done feelings.'

He took his glass walking back into the living room. Molly felt her heart sink. She grabbed her own glass taking a big drink before following him. Why did this feel like she was being dumped?

'I have had more feelings about you in the last two years than I have ever felt about anyone. At first I tried to dismiss them, I was worried about how it would affect my work but I proved to myself that if anything you help me clarify my thoughts. I thought we would pick up where we left off on my return but you were with Tim.'

'Tom', Molly corrected.

'What?' Said Sherlock confused and derailed for a second, 'whatever he's irrelevant, always should have been in my opinion.' He scowled briefly.

'I was surprised by my reaction to him. I realised I felt...jealous. You were mine, not his. Then there was the...err...misunderstanding about Janine...'

Molly felt her expression harden, she had still not quite forgiven him for the devastation she had felt over that.

'Having discussed things with John I realise that I should have been more honest with you. But I want you to know that I am done with all these distractions, all these misunderstandings. I want to...no, I need to be with you.'

Molly took a deep breath, 'you have to promise me Sherlock that you won't enter into another fake relationship again. I can't and won't share you, I don't care what case you're on!'

'I'm not boyfriend material Molly and I never will be. But I can promise you that I will never again put this ring on another woman's hand.' With that he pulled his grandmothers ring from his pocket, holding it out to Molly.

Molly looked at the ring and looked at Sherlock, 'I don't understand...'

'I may not be boyfriend material but maybe I could be your husband?'

Molly wondered for a moment if she were dreaming. She took another gulp of wine before putting the glass on the table. 'Are you asking me to marry you?'

Sherlock rolled his eyes, 'yes I would have thought that was obvious by now, an answer would be appreciated.'

'Wait, I need to understand this,' said Molly holding her hand up like a stop sign. 'You don't want to be my boyfriend but you're happy to marry me! How is that logical?'

Sherlock huffed, 'were you not just listening to me? I explained I have never felt like this...ever...about anyone else. Once I accepted those feelings and once we got Tom and Janine out of the picture there is no good reason for us to not be together and once we are together I can see no good reason why we would ever be apart ergo it makes sense to skip the boring dates and go straight to commitment which in our society means marriage. It also makes sense for you to move into 221B as John is moving out but we can discuss the logistics later.'

Molly sat open mouthed at his outburst. She picked up her wine glass and sipped at it to give her a few moments whilst she collected her thoughts. If he were anyone else she would have laughed in their face and called them ridiculous. But this wasn't anyone else, this was Sherlock Holmes and she already knew from everything she had done in the last two years she would do anything for him...anything. And if he were saying that he now felt the same way about her what was really stopping them.

As she looked at him his expression faltered, he looked as though she might reject him and she saw the vulnerability pass through his eyes and couldn't bear to see it.

Instead Molly smiled, 'yes, of course, yes.' She held her hand out and Sherlock slid on the ring. She looked into his eyes, which were now filled with joy, and thought she might burst with happiness.

He held her hand for a minute before reaching for her face cupping her cheek. He gently drew her towards him watching her eyes dilate, he loved that sight, his eyes then flicked to her lips watching her tongue slide across her bottom lip.

Still moving slowly he kissed her, gently, savouring the experience not wanting to rush things. Gradually her arms slid around his back and the kiss deepened. Her tongue against his, his body against hers. She fell back onto the settee that they were now both on and he moved with her feeling her slight body beneath his and he felt complete.

She moved one hand so it was tugging the curls on his head and he felt himself growl at the sensation, he had never realised his scalp was so sensitive. His own hand had made its way to her breast and he used his thumb to flick across the nipple feeling it harden to his touch. He moved to the fastenings of her top wanting to feel her skin on his. They were both still taking their time as though they realised that for the first time they had all the time in the world. Eventually Sherlock picked Molly up and moved them to the bedroom.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMH

Molly's mind was still whirling. She was engaged to Sherlock Holmes! Her inner self felt like doing a jig. She kept smiling as she kissed him not knowing quite how this dream had come true.

When he swept her up to carry her into the bedroom she found that she was almost naked, she didn't even fully remember him doing that. On the other hand Sherlock had only lost his jacket and his shoes and socks. Her favourite purple shirt was undone and untucked though. She giggled as he carried her trailing her fingers across his chest, feeling the muscles in his arms as he took her weight. He threw her lightly on the bed before crawling up to join her.

He knelt over her, looking down at her almost naked body as she lay there just wearing a smile and a pair of knickers.

'What are you thinking Mr Holmes?' She asked smiling coyly leaning up in her elbows.

His gaze lifted from her breasts to her face and he smiled back, 'that's the whole point Molly. With you I don't have to think. I can just feel.' With that he started to slide his hand from her calf up her body. 'I can feel your skin under my hand, your nipple under my thumb.' He rubbed his thumb back and forth over her breast watching the nipple harden to his touch. 'I can taste you, smell you, feel you and I don't have to think. It is rare for me to find something which so completely relaxes my brain, stops the constant thinking and whirling. But with you I feel at peace.' He bent to take her breast into his mouth, biting lightly on her nipple listening to her moans, feeling her starting to writhe underneath him.

He knew he wouldn't last long on this occasion, he needed her so badly but wanted to make sure she came before he did.

He felt her nails scratch along his scalp holding his head to her breast and he let his left hand trail down sliding under the elastic of her pants before he felt the warmth of her beneath his palm. Slowly he pushed two fingers into her using his thumb to draw lazy circles on her clit listening to her moans get louder. More than anything he wanted to hear her calling his name.

He kissed his way back up to her mouth and her legs came up around his waist. He could feel how hard he was, knew he wanted to be inside her when she came.

He knelt back up, laughing lightly as she protested, before shucking off his shirt and trousers. He hooked his thumbs in her pants and drew them slowly down her legs before throwing them onto the floor. She lay naked before him hands out to him persuading him back to her. As he lay over her he positioned himself at her entrance and pushed in as slowly as he could manage, trying to control his lust, trying to prolong the moment. She felt so warm and tight that it took all his willpower not to just pound into her.

She leant up biting and licking his neck, her hands went round his back and she gripped his ass pulling him into her further groaning as he did. He rocked against her starting to set a rhythm knowing it wouldn't take long for either of them. He could sense Molly was close as she started to urge him to go faster. He complied feeling his own orgasm building in. All of a sudden he felt Molly's muscles contract around him and then she was calling his name over and over and it was that more than anything that sent him tumbling into his own orgasm. As he came he sucked at the base of her neck marking her as his own.

As they came down from their high Sherlock rolled to one side pulling Molly against him, their legs and arms tangled together. She kissed his chest as he drew patterns on her back. 'That was amazing,' she whispered. 'Mmmmmmm' was his only response. He felt sleep starting to take him as he listened to Molly's breathing even out. His mind relaxed for the first time in months and feeling happier than he ever remembered feeling before.

**The last chapter will be up in a day or so, just some fluffy smut to complete their story. As always please make my day and review...or favourite...or follow..or all three. Thank you.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

**So, wow, here we are at the final chapter. The end of both The Marriage Sham and The Fake Engagement. I never thought it would end up being so long when I started it all those weeks ago.**

**Thank you to everyone who has taken the ride along with me. Particular thanks to those who regularly reviewed, I appreciated every comment, every suggestion, every positive comment you made. **

**We end their tale with some fluffy smut, with elements that may be familiar for those that remember the picnic.**

**I still don't own a thing but here we go.**

Molly woke up a couple of hours later. She glanced at Sherlock, who was still sound asleep, before sliding backwards off the bed in a bid not to disturb him.

She smiled happily to herself as she grabbed her dressing gown and made her way back through to the kitchen to make a drink. As soon as she was out of the bedroom she flicked on a light and held her hand up watching the diamonds on her ring wink and flash. She hugged herself still not quite able to believe that this was real, all those years of rejection and heartache finally at an end.

Yes she knew that life with Sherlock was not going to be easy, he was still arrogant and obnoxious, often oblivious of the hurt he was causing but she'd accepted a long time ago that that was just part of who he was. If she got to be loved by him and sleep with him, touching him and kissing him then she'd take the bad with the good.

As she passed through the front room she noticed the bags that Sherlock had brought with him… curiosity got the better of her and she went and glanced inside.

The first contained his dressing gown, a change of clothes, toothbrush etc. _Cocky much!_ She thought to herself laughing at his confidence at being accepted.

The other had enough food to keep them going a couple of days, a bottle of champagne, some food sachets of cat food for Toby _bonus points Mr Holmes_ and tucked away at the bottom some strawberries and chocolate spread.

Molly's mind went back to the picnic all those months ago and a sly smile spread across her face. Could she...should she..._oh yes, definitely!_

Molly quickly removed the lid and foil from the chocolate before quietly making her way back to the bedroom. She left the door slightly ajar to give herself some light to see by.

Sherlock was still asleep, lying in his back, one arm across his chest the other flung out to the side where it had previously been wrapped around Molly, the duvet across his middle just covering his modesty.

She climbed, as gently as she could, onto the bed and pulled the duvet back until he was naked. She still couldn't view him naked without a shiver of desire coursing through her. She set the chocolate to one side before slowly putting her hands on his thighs sliding them up towards his hips.

He hummed in his sleep, his cock twitching slightly. She repeated the move again sliding her hands up this time her thumbs sliding up his inner thighs. This time his groan was a bit louder, she could tell he was starting to awaken. Again his cock twitched, the blood starting to pool and make it harder. After the third time he was starting to stretch his arms, his cock starting to stand to attention. She needed to act fast before he woke up fully.

She slid two fingers into the chocolate and then spread the thick, gloopy mess down the length of his cock, covering him. His eyes snapped open at the sensation and he leant up on his elbows looking down at himself. Molly giggled at the shocked expression on his face as she slowly licked the chocolate off her fingers.

He glanced up at Molly watching her lick her fingers and she could see the lust gathering in his eyes. He smirked at her before growling 'I do hope you're planning to clean that up Doctor Hooper!'

'Oh yes, Mister Holmes. I wouldn't want my bedsheets to get messy. Now you just lie back and enjoy.' She pushed him gently on his chest til he fell back down.

She crawled up between his legs before bending down and slowly licking from the base to the tip of his cock as though it were a lollipop. She heard Sherlock groaning as she did, again just as she had with his thighs she repeated the move twice then three times listening to him getting louder. Once the base was clean she gripped him and swirled her tongue around the head enjoying the taste of the chocolate combined with him. She could see him grip the sheets trying not to thrust up towards her.

The next time after she'd swirled round the tip she took him into her mouth, her tongue still seeking out the chocolate. She felt his hips pumping up towards her mouth and enjoyed the fact that she was able to turn him in so much. She felt herself getting wet with desire as she continued to bob up and down taking him deeper each time.

'Oh God Molly, I'm going to...ohhh' he tugged lightly in her hair giving her a chance to stop before he came but she kept going cupping his balls in her hand massaging them lightly. He called her name again as he came into her mouth, she swallowed quickly surprised at how pleasant he tasted. The one time she'd done it before she hadn't really enjoyed it that much.

As she rocked back on her heels wiping her mouth with her hand she had a sudden thought.

'Oh My God Sherlock, what...how did you...what have you been eating?'

He opened his eyes and smiled 'well I might have eaten a pineapple or two yesterday, pretty tedious I have to admit but the results seem to have been worth it.'

She punched him in the chest, 'I can't believe you expected a blow job, how could you know that would happen.'

'Well, I have to admit it wasn't 100% certain, but given the proposal which I was confident would be accepted and given the inclusion of the chocolate sauce which seems to bring out your playful side I calculated there was a very strong chance that this would be the outcome. I also deduced that if this occasion were enjoyable for you you would be more likely to repeat it.'

Once again Molly was open mouthed with shock. She didn't quite know whether to be angry or impressed.

Whilst she was figuring it out she didn't notice Sherlock picking up the chocolate spread until it was too late.

'Luckily for you we already know from the wedding that I enjoy the taste of you so no need for special diet there,' and with that he pushed her dressing gown aside and smeared the chocolate across her breast.

MHMHMHMHMHMHMH

A few minutes later as Molly lay with Sherlock's head between her thighs she smiled to herself at the knowledge that life was never going to be boring ever again.

**And there we have it - the end. If you've enjoyed this story then please, let me know. You know what to do, review or favourite. **

**Also look out for my next story. First chapter will be posted on Friday...Holiday Romance anyone?**


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